


The Date

by Antag



Category: Senki Zesshou Symphogear
Genre: Contest Winner, F/F, F/F pairing, Light Angst, One Off, oc f/f pairing, soft romance, trans protagonist
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-11
Updated: 2019-07-11
Packaged: 2020-06-26 03:44:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,551
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19759915
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Antag/pseuds/Antag
Summary: A woman comes to grips with an existential realization in a world that has always felt unreal to her.





	The Date

**Author's Note:**

> This written work is one of three winners of a contest called the Symphogear OC Contest, hosted by the writer. This same person runs Let's Talk Symphogear; a site dedicated for keeping news informed of ongoing Symphogear related activity as well as recaps from older episodes. The contest was made as an exercise in helping make OC ideas for Symphogear, with the winners having their characters written about in their own one-off stories. Each story was either an explicit choice from the character creator or one chosen randomly with their approval. Each story that appears here has also been granted the blessing of its creator, both in its execution and its portrayal, as every piece of it is shown to them before posting. If any of this interests you in any way, please visit the following:
> 
> Tumbr: https://letstalksymphogear.tumblr.com/  
> Discord: https://discord.gg/c3KkDmh
> 
> Character: Manai Utaka  
> Made By: Third Place Winner, frograin  
> Full Character Sheet: https://file.io/iPWLrV

It’s noon.

The alarm clock gives a harsh screech. There are no other lights on; the flash of red from the clock lights up a high end yet unkept apartment building with a dim shade. The rest of the room is ordinary and unspecial. A woman lies in the bed, drooling through her total physical exhaustion. Her fingers twitch lightly as she sways towards the alarm in futility. Her eyelids wrestle against the freshly formed gunk along its edges, sealing them shut. Eventually she opens them, greeted by the usual darkness she’s felt all her life.

Whether it’s the lights shutting off after a concert or a long, deep sleep through overwork and appearances, it always ended in the dark for legendary pop idol Manai Utaka.

She didn’t bother turning the lights on. In Utaka’s world, the Earth simply hasn’t been born yet. Even her corporeal presence didn’t register to her. It was as if she rose back from the dead. Physiological reincarnation was Utaka’s typical daily act. She was good at it. She felt the weight of the pendant she always wore dig heavy against her chest. It was a beautiful magenta stone, covered with a slick lacquer to give it a special shine. She played with it idly between her fingers in her bed as she frowned. Only then did she begin to stand up, slowly and with care.

She didn’t bother turning the lights on. She only undid the curtains a little, just for some of the light to peer through. The obscurity and silence of her apartment was a welcome comfort after the constant noise and hustle of the crowd. In her lazy stupor she made breakfast, pouring milk and cereal haphazardly. Some of the milk would spill. Oh well, she’d say. She’d promise herself to clean it up later. Those were the kinds of casual promises she knew deep down she could never live up to. Not that it mattered; she reached a point in her life where the world had aligned itself to clean up after her mistakes. A caretaker will come in later to live up to the thing she promised she’d do.

Thinking about that, she gripped the spoon and frowned. She took a moment in spite to clean up the small spillage and sat back down again. She gave a weak smile, feeling a false confidence in reasserting an agency that she long since sold away. She sat alone.

She finished up her breakfast watching some morning cartoon shows. Watching mainstream media made her uncomfortable given she knew the inner machinations of the business. It was like watching slime pretend to be human. Sometimes they’d talk about her. Sometimes the tabloids would use some particularly wrong names, with some painfully untrue pronouns. The internet was largely a temptation she’d constantly ignore. She knew what the imageboards thought of her. The teeming culture underneath them that demanded their pounds of flesh and blood. She has long since understood that the kind of people interested in what’s between her legs are most definitely not the audience she caters to. That was a job to be dealt with by the rest of her team; from her PR men down to the lowliest bouncer. She took her pills, which were an assortment of vitamins and minerals save for a few specialized ones. One fore depression, another for anxiety, and one more for her HRT treatment.

She shut off the small, compact TV on the table as she began retreating to her room, walking past an arrangement of pictures. She paused for a moment, her tired gaze peeking at two of them.

The first one was her time at Pink Berry before she quit due to personal reasons. Decked out in a beautiful strawberry-based outfit, she stood there alone. She hasn’t spoken to most of her group mates ever since she left all those years ago. It wasn’t out of malice, really. In fact, she was certain they’d be receptive of her. What would she say, though? Would they even believe it? Such an absurdly fantastical story. Her eyes glazed over it as she looked at the next one.

It was a picture with her and her closest friend, who is now her girlfriend, Airi. She picked up the picture with a gentle caress to admire it. She was her core. The stone which kept her grounded and buoyant against the strife. Her thumb gently stroked Airi in the picture. No yearning on the planet could compare to the deepest desire of living the rest of her life with her. She could almost smell the brand of perfume she carried on her, a delicate touch of tropical fruit and sharp air. Her aura was magnetic, and their bond eternal. Just looking at her face let her reminisce about the taste of her lipstick dancing along the tip of her tongue.

Then a thought struck through her head, and her eyes dilated as she quickly put the picture back and ran to her room.

She had a date with her today this Father’s day, and it’s scheduled in half an hour.

* * *

Utaka was dressed in a very chic yet nondescript outfit. Something that was stylish enough to be tasteful, yet generic enough that it didn’t catch a lot of attention. No frills, nothing over 50 dollars. Her hair was down and naturally black, which helped contrast her independent idol persona. Her hoodie obscured her face and was baggy enough to help her blend in further. Her sunglasses hid her distinct eyes. She decided against the mask this time, as it was a nice restaurant she was meeting up in.

It was a high-end hole in the wall in downtown Tokyo. Secluded from the hustle and bustle of tourists and crowds, it was RSVP only and available only to high end clientele. It wasn’t the kind of place you could casually walk into unless you knew exactly what it was. There was no sign, no available hints or pointers to indicate where it was. The entrance was a single, nondescript door built into a white wall.

Utaka went in and shut it behind her. In the initial entrance, there was a concierge with a bouncer standing before her. There was another set of doors to pass through, fully obscuring the restaurant completely. She presented her identification to the concierge and nodded. It wasn’t the first time she’s been here.

> _“Ah, Mrs. Manai. We’ve been expecting you. Party of two, yes? She’s been waiting for ten minutes. Let her pass.”_

The bouncer gave a curt, yet polite nod as he opened the door for her.

She was greeted by an incredibly immaculate and sophisticated eating location. Dark oak wood adorned the entire restaurant with smooth platinum etchings everywhere. The lighting was dim to convey a soft mood while securing privacy amongst all the booths. It was hard to see inside them all; they were large, studded with soft faux-fur along all the edges. Expensive chandeliers hung from the ceilings as witnesses and guardians over everyone’s privacy. Their very architecture was designed to aim light in specific places, conveniently granting shadow everywhere else.

The waiters all dressed in black with only small badges to indicate their movement to blend in as much as possible without bumping into each other. There was no smoking area. The less fire hazards, the less possibility that something would happen that would expose this location and those within it. It was beautiful in the execution of its obscurity. It was its own little world, concentrated and hidden away. Utaka had stepped into another dimension that yet preserved her element.

There in the corner, hidden amongst even the most subtle of booths, awaited Airi.

Airi could have been dressed in the most raggedy, dirtiest piecemeal used towels on the planet and still she would shine like a Goddess. She wore the most plain of sundresses with a hat to boot. Her nails were finely manicured, with attention paid in detail to the color. Pink and red, matching just like Utaka’s onstage appearance. It was the most subtle form of solidarity Airi could find, one way or another. No matter where or when, somehow, she would fit her motif to match her girlfriend’s.

She looked up and smiled at Utaka, slowly taking off her hat.

> _“You’re here! I was worried for a moment.”_ She briefly feigned heartbreak as Utaka sat down next to her in the booth. _“I… I thought you had left me today for your true love…”_
> 
> Utaka sat closely. _“What? What would that possibly be?”_
> 
> Airi grinned as she immediately looped an arm around her waist and held her closely, her voice growing deep and husky. _“Your true love… chocolate topped doughnuts with cream inside!”_

She blew a raspberry into Utaka’s neck as they both went into a giggle fit. Regardless of how dim it was, the day had never been brighter for the both of them. Airi clung casually to her, face buried into Utaka’s shoulder as they simply enjoyed each other’s company. Her fingers rubbed along Airi’s gently, until they locked into each other and held hands. Utaka’s thumb gently rubbed against the fingernail of Airi’s thumb. Her lips traced against Utaka’s neck, gently enough so the lipstick didn’t smear despite how badly she wanted it to.

> _“Heh. You know, I didn’t tell you why I was worried. See, I showed up here a bit late too. It’s Father’s Day, after all, so I woke up greeting my dad. We had breakfast together before I told him I was going to meet up with you. That old man! He had the audacity to tell me on his day to forget about him and go enjoy my time with you. I’ve still got a present planned for him tonight, but… this is also our day, y’know?”_
> 
> Utaka was contemplative. Though she never drifted from her side, her silence was awkward. Airi gave her hand a soft, reassuring squeeze.
> 
> _“I don’t have to talk about my old man if you don’t want me to.”_
> 
> _“No, it’s not that, it’s just…”_

The waiter came, presenting menus. The both of them knew what they wanted. Airi always liked soups to watch her figure with for her modeling career. Utaka felt like indulging in a nice, well done udon bowl, with the both of them sharing an appetizer and some fruits. The waiter whisked himself away, the silence being filled again by awkward tension.

> _“I like hearing about what you do with your dad. It’s nice that you and him are on such good terms.”_

Airi realizes the problem as she cozies up to her some more, her eyes half lidded. Her other hand trails up to Utaka and is gently pressed against her lips.

> _“I understand. It’s our day, remember? No one else matters. Let’s just enjoy what little time we have left, today of all days when the stars have aligned for us to be together.”_

Utaka turned her head toward Airi, her mouth and nose buried in her hair. It was light brown and soft like clouds. She could smell the shampoo she used. It was the same one she used herself. The smell was soft and fragrant, memorable like a fine summer day. Airi’s lips traced along her neck quietly as they hardly spoke. There was no need to say anything more. They were there, together. That’s all that mattered.

* * *

> _“What do you mean it’s not real?”_
> 
> _“It was never real. What idiot would hand someone randomly a highly classified relic? Did you think these things are shit out like candy?”_
> 
> _“But… you swore to me, up and down. The importance of following my heart through this…”_

Utaka clasped the stone pendant dangling from her neck.

> _“Singasteinn. You said this would propel me towards success, and that if I believed hard enough, anything would come true!”_
> 
> _“That’s the lie you needed to get there. That’s what you never got, Utaka. Hard work doesn’t mean anything if you don’t have the brass to tackle it head on. Sometimes we’ve got to lie to ourselves to make it happen. In a way, we lied to each other. I told you that relic was real to give you the courage to make it to where you are now, and you lied to me saying that you’ll get stronger with your singing.”_

Her father looked away from her, facing a window.

> _“The reality is that this idol business- this whole enterprise. It’s fake. It’s a cover up designed for Symphogears to maintain an alias in order to operate covertly in the locations they need to be. It’s a mask the media is fed so that their real jobs can be satisfied without question. And I hoped that you, given the honing of your singing prowess, would eventually rub shoulders with said covert agents so that eventually you could attain a real gear of your own.”_

Utaka was speechless. Her father was gazing out the window, focusing on a memory from another time.

> _“I never wanted your money. My retirement fund after I quit SONG more than covers my pension for the rest of my days. Pushing you to be the breadwinner of the family with this career was just a means to keep you motivated, because I knew you were a lazy good-for-nothing who didn’t care about herself. I knew that if you made it to the big leagues on your own, somewhere, wherever you went… I knew your singing would create the necessary Aufwaschen pattern to awaken something. Anything.”_

Tears streamed down her face. _“Why… why?”_

> _“You read the documents, didn’t you? You shoved them into my face just now, Utaka. Why **wouldn’t** I make something dedicated to eliminating the very thing that destroyed my family? That took everything away from me? I saw the opportunity and seized it. Wouldn’t you?”_

Utaka was shaking.

> _“Did you ever believe in me at all?”_

Her father simply lit a cigarette at the question, and smoked quietly. He lift the window so the smell could waft away.

> _“Was there anything there to believe in, in the first place?”_

Utaka was stunned. Everything she had ever done up to that point was always for the sake of others. Even the dream of pursuing her own career was largely for the sake of making sure her mother and father were well off, after supporting her in her transition. The existential nature of the question shook her to the core. Her organs felt seized from her own body, her entrails eviscerated as her headache grew stronger. The tears obscured her vision. Her very bones quaked with the desire to crawl out of her body.

There was only silence.

She simply turned away and slammed the door.

* * *

Utaka played with the pendant on her neck while Airi sipped her soup. She only moved away just to have some space to eat. As compulsive snugglers, the both of them agreed not to touch each other while eating unless it was finger foods or desserts, since it felt weird. Utaka hadn’t even touched her food yet. The udon was marvelously done. A normally tasty dish was counteracted by the uncomfortable thoughts flittering through Utaka’s mind.

Airi finished her soup. Pausing, she saw Utaka’s silence.

> _“You’re still thinking about him, aren’t you?”_

Utaka gave a weak shrug.

> _“It’s Father’s Day… it’s- it’s hard not to.”_

Airi snuggled back with her again, as her fingers trailed along the cheek of Utaka’s face. The soft, gentle trace of her fingernails felt nice as Utaka leaned into them. Utaka kissed a finger idly, and pressed against Airi, forehead to forehead. Utaka could almost lose herself in Airi’s deep, rich indigo eyes. They continued to speak to each other in hushed, loving whispers.

> _“You still care about him, don’t you?”_
> 
> _“I… He was there for me. Ulterior motive or not, he was my pillar for a while. I’d be nothing without him.”_
> 
> _“You’d be nothing without **you**. It was your work and dedication that made it happen.”_

Airi could feel tears brush against her face. They weren’t hers. Utaka leaned in closer in visible sadness.

> _“Why do I hurt over things that weren’t my fault? Why does the shame and guilt haunt me, wherever I go? I feel like a failure. Deep down in my heart and soul, I’ve always felt so empty. Every achievement I’ve ever reached is bittersweet. Every milestone feels invalid, and unearned. Why? Airi, why…?”_

Airi coaxed away the tears with her thumbs as she held Utaka more tightly than ever.

> _“I think you wanted to bring happiness to others, and somewhere along the way, you forgot what made you happy. You’ve made it through so much, Utaka. You’re so strong and- its that quality that shines brightest in you. But the question you have to ask yourself, I think, is… are you happy? Are you doing the things that make you happy?”_
> 
> Utaka sniffed as she cleared the tears away. _“Being- being with you makes me happy.”_
> 
> _“Not just that, Utaka. Come on… tell me. What else makes you happy?”_

Utaka bit her lip and thought. Her hand slowly balled up in thought. Her mind focused on the false relic around her neck. The one that burdened her as the cumulative weight of her father’s lies, yet was the last remaining connection she had with him. Ever since that day so many years ago, they hadn’t spoken to each other. Deep down, Utaka wanted to. She wanted to see him again. She knew better, though. She knew that a relationship built on lies implied an inequality between two people. She was deceived countless times for a selfish motivation. All he desired was to project onto her the feelings of his own inadequacy and inability to protect the family he lost. She knew it wasn’t his fault.

She also knew it wasn’t hers, either.

Utaka gripped the false relic pendant dangling from her neck and tugged as hard and intently as possible, surprising Airi. She tugged hard enough that the necklace dug into her skin. Hard enough that small scars were forming as the golden chains reached their limit and snapped apart. Utaka herself was shocked as she stared at the pendant, completely at the mercy of her grip. The tip of the pendant buried itself a bit in the palm of her hand, leaving a scar with some blood coming out. It burned a bit.

> _“Oh my God, Utaka. Are- are you okay…?”_

Utaka simply smiled, tears streaming down her face as she slowly dropped the pendant onto the table.

> _“I think this is the first time in my life that I’ve felt genuinely happy with myself.”_

She kissed Airi, hard. Airi was taken aback, but slowly drifted into the kiss as they both held onto each other. Airi’s hands gripped Utaka’s back as Utaka’s hand slid across the back of Airi’s shoulders. Slowly, their lips parted.

> _“I want to live the life I want to live. I want to sing. I want to perform. But above all… I want to be with you. That’s what I want, Airi. Above everything- above all. I just want you.”_

Airi gave a slow smile that devolved into a giggle, and then fell apart into laughter.

> _“Utaka... I guess you’ve never realized it until now, but. You already **do**.”_

Utaka took her food to go as the both of them paid for each other’s meals after 5 minutes of bickering about who pays for the date. Utaka had decided to take Airi out around the city and join her and her dad for their Father’s Day get together, staying with her for the night. It was the best way to be with her as much as possible before she left to tour around the rest of the city tomorrow. Airi had pocketed the pendant Utaka had shed after she helped stop the bleeding in Utaka’s palm. Airi reasoned that while Utaka believed it to be the weight of her father’s deception, she herself believed it was a monument for continuing on despite being held back by that belief. Plus, Airi had a fondness for cool looking rocks, real or otherwise.

Utaka walked with Airi, arms locked with each other as Airi rested her head on Utaka, visibly holding hands without shame. As the passed by everyone, Utaka accidentally bumped into someone.

> _“Oh, sorry!”_ Utaka apologized briefly before moving on.
> 
> _“Oh yeah, whoops.”_ The woman said. Her hair a strong hue of blue, she tugged the hand of another, older woman with pink hair.
> 
> _“Our booth is here Maria! Stop being so slow!”_

She was followed by three other girls and a large man dressed in red with a tie with noticeably spiky red hair. Briefly he locked eyes with Utaka before she looked back again without registering who it was. He squinted his eyes in brief familiarity, before moving on with everyone else.

Utaka and Airi moved past the concierge as the door opened. Both of them standing, basking in the light of the outside world, they bravely marched out from the obscurity of the restaurant to tackle the upcoming challenges that awaited them.

It was starting to look like tomorrow morning would be just a bit less lonely.


End file.
